Crushed

Crushed

By

Stephen Albrow

I can do this. I CAN do this. I CANNOT DO THIS. It's completely
hopeless and I wish I was dead and that she was dead and that every
fucking body in this godforsaken world was dead. Look at her. Look at
me. No just look at her. Don't look at me. The difference could be
enough to kill you. They say if you live in really cold places, like
Eskimos do, that if you come right in from the cold and drink a nice
hot drink, then the change in temperature from the cold outside to the
heat of the drink is enough to crack your tooth enamel. Well that's the
difference between me and her and it's hopeless. And it's me who's the
cold and her who's the hot.
God, I hate nightclubs. Why am I here? Well I'm here because she's
here and I knew she'd be here, cos she's always here after work,
dancing the night away, getting pissed, doing what I want to do but
only ever seem to get around to reading about in books. I really hate
these places. The music is much too loud and all this smoke can't be
good for my lungs and, somebody shoot me, I AM TURNING INTO MY DAD. I
just said it. Did you hear that? The music is too loud. I just said
that. I said it out loud to Kenny, the bastard who dragged me here
tonight. Okay, then, he didn't drag me here. He said let's get a beer
after work and I said why not come here knowing that she'd be here, and
I was right, for once in my life, cos she is here, having a good time,
unlike me.
Turn it down, for Christ's sake. I can't hear a word Kenny's saying,
what with this stupid music playing so loud, but then again I've known
Kenny years and it's not necessarily a bad thing, not being able to
hear him. He's an alright bloke to work with and to have the odd beer
with, but basically he's a tosser. I say that as a friend, of course.
Don't get me wrong, I don't not like the guy. I just think that
basically when all is said and done he's a big tosser and I wish that I
was at home reading a book.
God, he talks some crap, and I heard him say that alright, the one
thing in particular that I didn't want to hear him say. He really IS a
tosser. Why does he have to make vulgar comments about her, telling me
he'd like to give her one? What is it with men? They sicken me, they
really do. There she is dancing with a couple of her friends to some
crazily loud music and all he can think of is giving her one. Okay, I
admit it, she's a babe. She's gorgeous. And that dress she's wearing
doesn't make any attempt to hide the fact, anywhere. It's showing off
all her assets, and I mean all of them. I've kind of got the feeling
that she might not have anything on other than the dress. Nipples don't
poke through like that when a girl has a bra on and when she does that
bendy forward/bendy backward dance step there's not so much as a hint
of visible panty line; not, of course, that I'm looking, or staring, or
totally unable to register anything else in the room other than her
behind or anything. No, it's not that. I guess it's just that I'm the
observant type. Not like that tosser, Kenny. Like to give her one,
would you? Not a hope in hell, sunshine. Not a hope in fucking
hell.
She's a clever girl, Ken, not that you care about that, like I do, you
pervert. Okay, she might have a big chest and a tight rear and that
cute smile she does when you tell her a joke and you can tell she
doesn't find it funny, cos all your jokes are crap, but she doesn't
want you to know she doesn't find it funny, cos she knows you've got a
crush on her and she doesn't want to hurt your feelings, so her lips
just sort of curl up at the corners, and, it's just no good, I am so IN
LOVE WITH HER. Christ, I have fallen for her hook, line, sinker AND AN
EXTRA HOOK. I don't just want to give her one. I want to give her
loads, satisfying her night after night with my throbbing member,
taking her to heights of passion from which she will never be able to
get back down, rendering her dumb in admiration and awe of my manly,
almost godly sexual prowess. If that's actually possible with a four
and a half incher.
I can do this. I CAN do this. I CANNOT DO THIS. Kenny's off again
about something, but the music's much too loud. You might as well shut
it, you tosser. I can't hear a word you're saying. I SAID, I CAN'T HEAR
A WORD YOU'RE SAYING. ARE YOU DEAF OR SOMETHING? I SAID, ARE YOU DEAF
OR... LOOK IT DOESN'T MATTER... IT DOESN'T... God, that guy is the
biggest tosser in the world. I need another pint. I need another two
pints. I need three, maybe forty eight more pints and some vodka and
some whisky and some drugs. I need drugs, hard drugs, but then again
they are illegal and I'm a good guy, and I don't want no trouble and
they cost a bomb anyway. HELP ME, HEEEELLLLPPPP, that's exactly what my
dad always says about drugs. I AM MY DAD.
Snap out of it. Come on, you can do it. Hi, darling, can I buy you a
drink? It's not so difficult. Just go up to her and say it. Actually,
better not say darling. Hi, NICOLA, can I buy you a drink? I can do
this. I CAN do THAT. Maybe tell her a joke that she won't get so I can
see that smile. Okay, I'm going to do it. Maybe wait until she's
stopped dancing first, though. Could have another drink while I'm
waiting.
Oh, my God, she's doing it again. Oh, yeah, baby. Will you look at
that? You really cannot beat that bendy forward/bendy backward thing.
And I was right, she most definitely is uncontaminated by underwear. I
could see the outline of everything quite clearly. Right up the
crack.
You are such a tosser, Kenny. No, I did not see Nicola's arse just
then. I was not looking anywhere near Nicola's arse just then. I was
trying to get served. I am trying to push through these crowds and get
to the bar and pissed in that order. I was... Oh, my God, I love her so
much. I want to father her children. I want to start the fathering
tonight. Right here and now. In the alley out the back. Get out there,
just hitch up her dress, whip the old boy out and start making babies.
Now. Right now.
I'm erect. I have an erection. Stop thinking about her, and quickly. I
am standing in a crowded club with an erection and there are people
pushing against me. There are people pushing me from behind trying to
get to the bar and they are pushing me into the people in front of me
who are actually at the bar. I am being pushed into people and my cock
is full of blood, standing to attention, shouting hello, burying its
head into the person right in front of... Oh, thank God, at least it's
a female. Will she notice? What if the girl in front of me notices how
excited I am? How humiliating? What if she doesn't notice? How even
more humiliating? I can't win either way. I am either lugged into the
street by some angry bouncer for attempting rape at the bar or I spend
a lifetime on a psychiatrist's couch explaining how my neurosis about
my physical inadequacy has killed off my sexual life.
Curse you, Nicola. Why did you have to wear that dress? Why do you
have to smile that smile you smile? Why do I have turn up at every
nightclub you've ever been to every night in the hope that at one of
them, rather than just being deafened by the much too loud music, I
will be able to worship you and maybe even pluck up the courage to ask
if you want a drink? Nicola, would you like a drink? Would you like a
drink, Nicola? I can do it. I CAN DO IT. Say it. Go over to her and SAY
IT. And do it quickly before you come all over the poor girl standing
in front of you.
Say it. Say it. Can I buy you a drink? Can I buy you a drink?
CAN I BUY YOU A DRINK?
Oh, my God, I said it. I said it out loud, but she's on the dance
floor and I'm up at the bar. You twat, you stupid twat. You're meant to
say it when you're near her, not from twenty yards away.
SURE, YOU CAN BUY ME A DRINK. Voices, I'm hearing voices. She's on the
dance floor and I can hear her. I've had too much to drink. I'm
mentally insane. Something is going wrong in my head. Maybe it's my
erection playing tricks on me. I'm hearing her answer from twenty yards
away.
I'LL HAVE A BACARDI BREEZER, PLEASE. The voices again. IF YOU CAN
CONTROL YOUR EXCITEMENT LONG ENOUGH. MAYBE WE SHOULD GO STRAIGHT BACK
TO MY PLACE NOW
The girl in front of me at the bar. The girl I almost raped.
EITHER YOU'RE A PERVERT OR JUST VERY, VERY FORWARD, AND EITHER WAY YOU
CAN BUY ME A BACARDI BREEZER.
She's smiling up at me and she's really cute. I'll make a little
joke.
I've made a little joke and she's laughing at it, not just laughing at
it to be nice, she really gets it and finds it funny. She's called
Amanda, but her friends call her Mandy and she says she hopes that I'm
one of them. SURE AM, I say, then after a little pause I add, MANDY.
Boy, do I emphasise the MANDY, not Amanda, and she laughs again, like
it was funny.
There's your Breezer, I'm saying. She's all smiles and, boy, does my
pint go down well.
Maybe too well. Sure, I'd like to dance, MANDY. Did I just hear right?
What am I saying? I hate dancing. Oh, maybe I'm crazy, but why the hell
not? I'm just about pissed enough to not care about making an arse out
of myself on the dance floor. Feel the beat, come on, man, feel the
beat, and on your marks, get set, DANCE.
Will you look at me go? Move over, Travolta, you ain't seen nothing
yet. I am dancing with her. I am dancing with MANDY. She is just SO
cute and I am dancing with her in front of Nicola, poor Nicola who is
looking almost jealous. Look at her stepping up a gear, doing all her
best moves, trying to win me back, and it's not like she even fancies
me. She just wants me to keep my crush on her.
But it's gone. I don't need Nicola now. Not after what I've just seen.
MANDY can do the bendy forward/bendy backward thing, too.
Dancing, dancing, half an hour, maybe more, of dancing. Let's get
another drink, MANDY. She smiles really nicely. I can do it. I CAN do
it. I CAN DO IT. I'M NOT MY DAD AND I'M IN LOVE. The real thing, this
time. What a fucking night it's been. Even Kenny doesn't seem such a
tosser any more. It's almost perfect. Almost. Now all I've got to do is
get rid of that damned erection.

THE END